


Ever After, After All

by Resmiranda



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, a touch of smut, if it doesn’t hurt I failed, it gets better though I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 14:41:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4525941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resmiranda/pseuds/Resmiranda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I think we should break up.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ever After, After All

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Долго и счастливо до самой смерти](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6067017) by [Nataliny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nataliny/pseuds/Nataliny)



> Hi there! This fic was heavily inspired by By Now (especially) & Ever After by Marianas Trench. I was listening to By Now, thought of IwaOi, and was so overcome by feelings I had to write something. I hope I have done their characters an ounce of justice.
> 
> This is my first serious foray into the Haikyuu!! fandom, so please be gentle with me. <3
> 
> All my love to [ Nikooki ](http://resmiranda13.tumblr.com/) for being a super awesome person and beta and listening to me rant about how to order this thing. :3
> 
> Feel free drop me an ask on my [ Tumblr. ](http://resmiranda13.tumblr.com/)
> 
> UPDATE: Now in [ Russian](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6067017#main)! (Thank you [ WTF_Haikyuu_2016 ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WTF_Haikyuu_2016/pseuds/WTF_Haikyuu_2016) for the translation!)

_Sometimes the one you want is not the one you need_  
_What goes around don't come around_  
_You should know me by now_

 

* * *

 

“Oikawa, can I come in?”

Oikawa Tooru looked back at him with hallowed eyes, as he held the door to their— _what used to be their_ —shared apartment halfway open. The familiar warm spark Hajime had always been able to find in them was sickeningly absent. Flat and lifeless pools of black and brown looked back at him, so murky Hajime wasn’t even sure Tooru could see him. His eyelids were swollen. Hajime’s heart slipped a few rungs lower.

This was his fault.

Tooru moved away from the door to allow entrance, and ghosted into the apartment, not looking back to see if Hajime was following. Hajime couldn’t help but think how thin Tooru looked, despite having just seen him a few weeks ago. Had he been this thin before? Was he eating properly without him? Worry churned in Hajime’s gut and he swallowed hard. Even Tooru’s hair looked limp and dull. Hajime ached to come up behind him and brush those strands away from an ear to whisper he would be back soon. But they both knew that would be a lie, and Hajime would not lie.

Now was not the time to regret his choice.

 

* * *

 

Hajime remembers the beginning.

Oikawa and Hajime were always close. They grew up together, played together. Hajime couldn’t shake Oikawa off of him, and it didn’t take long before he had no desire to. Life without Oikawa by his side or a phone call away became unimaginable. They had so much shared history that words became largely unnecessary between them, and their other friends frequently complained of their conversations being too hard to follow. It wasn’t like Oikawa and he chose to be that way, though.

It just was.

So much between them was so normal and natural that it came as a powerful shock to Hajime when he saw a couple cuddled together on a couch at a party, the girl’s head resting comfortably on her boyfriend’s shoulder, and it occurred to him that, for all the couples that had done this, he’d never seen a pair of friends do it.

But he and Oikawa did it all the time.

Hajime recalls locking eyes with Oikawa from across the room then—having sought him out without even thinking about it, and the panic that seized his heart when Oikawa directed a soft _real_ smile at him.

On some level, that was when Hajime realized he might be fucked.

It was different for Oikawa.

Oikawa claimed he always knew he loved his ‘Iwa-chan.’

 _‘I’m going to marry Iwa-chan_ ,’ he declared frequently as a child—until his mom explained to him one day that boys couldn’t marry boys. Oikawa didn’t understand it at the time, and Hajime didn’t think he ever really came to. Oikawa knew people looked down on two men being together, but thought their judgment idiotic.

‘ _What does it matter to them what other people do?’_

Still, Hajime knew that back then it didn’t stop Oikawa from feeling ashamed every time he found his gaze lingering on him as he changed; didn’t stop him from cringing when his mom asked him if there were any cute girls at school; didn’t stop him from dating a few just to try it out and keep his parents happy.

Both of them were so terrified and relieved when everything came out.

 

* * *

 

Hajime awoke to Tooru crying in the dead of night.

Tooru tried to keep his noises soft. His body remained almost completely still, an obvious attempt to keep from disturbing Hajime.

Hajime’s chest ached. He never could get back to sleep on nights like this. He would lie there, pretending to, until Tooru sniffs and hiccups quieted once more into even breathing. Then he would spend hours staring blankly at Tooru's back, wishing he could take away his pain.

Hajime’s throat felt so tight he could hardly swallow. A ragged gasp came from the form only a few feet from him as he choked on a sob. A mantra of _you're doing this to him_ played over and over in Hajime’s head until it throbbed.

Hajime felt his thoughts drifting, like they did every so often, to what could make it better.

Those were the nights that Hajime cried, too.

 

* * *

 

"How have you been?”

Tooru wouldn’t answer. Wouldn’t even look at him.

Tooru and Hajime sat at their small round kitchen table, cups of tea that had long since gone cold clutched in their hands. Tearstains still shone on Tooru’s porcelain skin.

Ever since Tooru had let him in, he’d been nearly silent. The air of the apartment weighed on Hajime’s body and made it hard to even lift his mug to his lips. Things with Tooru had always been so easy. Even when Tooru was at his saddest, he always had a way of making the mood light and airy with a few quick words. Not even a heartbroken Tooru knew how to shut up. But this was worse than heartbreak. Hajime saw that now.

This was devastation.

“I—” Hajime’s voice came out gravelly. He worked enough spit into his mouth to swallow and tried again. “I just came to get my stuff, Tooru,” he exhaled heavily. He let the _‘then I’ll leave’_ go unsaid.

“Iwa-ch—“

“You should keep the apartment.”

Tooru’s jaw snapped shut with an audible _click_ , mind completely void of what he was going to say.

Tooru’s voice was distinctly more watery this time, and Hajime could not stop it fast enough. “Iwa—”

“I changed all the bills to be in your name, already.”

Hajime couldn’t look at him, but he could feel Tooru’s eyes on him. Feel his pain.

“ _Hajime!_ ”

The cry of desperation embedded in his name lanced Hajime’s heart. But he had to do this. He had already started it. It hurt now, but it would be better for them both in the long run. They weren’t going anywhere. Maybe they never were. They were just two close friends who became something more and then clung to one another, too scared and uncertain to separate when things started to crumble.

Home is home, after all, even if the roof could cave in.

He heard a sniffle and looked up just in time to see tears spill afresh from Tooru’s eyes. The depths of his pain were acute in Hajime’s own chest. All the fight had been drained out of Tooru, and that was, possibly, the part that hurt the worst.

 

* * *

 

“IWA-CHAN THE MOON IS SPINNING!”

“Shut up Shitkawa, we’re in the middle of a neighborhood!” Hajime roared back.

Oikawa stumbled into him, putting more of his weight on Hajime, even though he was only slightly less drunk off his ass.  They were coming home from the last Christmas party of their high school career at Matsukawa’s place, and had been laughing and leaning on each other the whole way. Hajime was in a good mood. He had only threatened Oikawa twice.

Oikawa’s face was pink with liquor and the chill of the night.

Hajime couldn’t help but notice… Oikawa was really cute like this.

Even though the intrusiveness of that thought pissed him off, it didn’t stop him from looping an arm around Oikawa’s waist to support him as he tripped over his own feet.

“Oh, right!” Oikawa whisper-yelled right in his ear. “Sorry, Iwa-chan!” Hajime shoved Oikawa off him with a bit more force than necessary and scrubbed at his ear, shuddering.

“Did I spit on you, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa awkwardly lunged for Hajime, fumbling fingers trying to aid Hajime in rubbing his ear, but only succeeding in lightly massaging the side of his face. Hajime swatted his hand away.

“Oikawa, stop it!”

Hajime knew his cheeks were already flushed from alcohol, but Oikawa’s presence was making him warm in an entirely different way.

“Iwa-chan, your skin is really soft,” Oikawa marveled, calloused fingertips returning to trace along Hajime’s jaw.

Hajime’s breath caught.

His heart began to race.

“Oikawa—”

Soft.

Cold.

A tiny bit chapped from the winter.

Hajime gasped like a drowning man breaking the surface when he realized Oikawa was kissing him. The noise startled Oikawa into breaking contact. His eyes were wide and scared, but quickly changing, a mask Hajime knew all too well forming.

Hajime panicked, mind still too hazy to think straight. All he could see was Oikawa withdrawing and he didn’t want him to.

Hajime surged forward and grabbed Oikawa’s collar. Oikawa’s arms windmilled, both of them teetering for a heart-stopping moment. Somehow they managed to pitch their weights into one another, leaving their chests flush and arms tangled together. Hajime kept his hold on Oikawa firm, determined to not let him wave this one off with one of his fake smiles.

“Kiss me again Shitty Oikawa,” Hajime ordered.

Oikawa’s eyes widened further.

_Oh, fuck._

He had just said that.

They stared, frozen, at one another for painfully long seconds.

A hint of pink tongue wet Oikawa’s lips.

Then it wet Hajime’s.

 

* * *

 

Oikawa Tooru was not perfect.

Oikawa was full of confidence that was unfortunately very sincere, but he was not without his weaknesses. He really was obnoxiously self-assured,but that vigor and flashy smile served the double purpose of protecting Tooru’s soft underbelly. Hajime was one of very few who actually knew how easily Tooru was hurt. How much other’s words could cut him—especially if related to his abilities. Underneath all that charm, Oikawa was vulnerable. It was why he didn’t let many people close.

Hajime was a special exception because of how long he and Tooru had known one another. After years of friendship, a special brand of trust had been built between them. Something both of them could put full faith in without a second thought.

Only it was failing them.

They had been falling apart for a while now.

Hajime looked over at Tooru’s profile as he sat on the edge of their bed in the morning light, putting on socks.

 _‘Because the floor is_ so _cold, Iwa-chan.’_

Hajime’s lips quirked, but it was fleeting. It always was these days. Mostly he just felt sad.

Tooru stood up and walked into the bathroom attached to their room, but not without throwing Hajime another smile. He had already greeted Hajime with a sunshiny trill of his name and a peck on his cheek. Hajime found himself returning it, as he always did, no matter how tired he was of pretending things were okay. They weren’t.

They really weren’t.

Hajime scrubbed a hand over his face and kept it there. He didn’t know what to do. Had been unsure for a while. He wasn’t exactly sure when things started slipping. Tooru and he had been living a comfortable life in Tokyo for a few years, now. The early days of romance and passion had somehow faded to silent nights cohabitating on the couch without even touching and tight smiles.

It made Hajime feel sick.

_Where did they go wrong?_

He had asked this to himself a thousand times over and still came up blank. Nothing had really _changed_ , to his knowledge. Tooru never stopped talking to him, Hajime never stopped craving him by his side; they never fought. They were busy, sure, but never so much so that they didn’t have time for one another.

But somewhere along the line a crack had formed between them, and Hajime didn’t notice it until it was a gaping canyon that he had no idea how to cross.

The distance pained him, and he was sure Tooru was unhappy. That was the part that made his chest ache the most. He could tolerate his own pain, but Tooru’s he could not—not when he was the cause.

Hajime had found himself searching through women’s magazines with constant glances over one shoulder, browsing articles on how to revive a relationship. He didn’t find them all that helpful. Most of them just gave suggestions to bring some passion back to the bedroom, but that was the least of their troubles. Sex with Tooru was still fantastic and heated, even if less frequent than before. It was one of the few times Hajime felt close to Tooru—but it always ended with guilt. Somehow, no matter how good the sex was, they never cuddled afterwards anymore. Tooru used to cling to Hajime like a koala bear after they made love, but now he was lucky if he got a last kiss before Tooru would turn away from him and leave Hajime staring at his curled form.

Those were the nights Tooru cried the most.

Come morning, just like this one, Tooru was always bright and cheerful again. Hajime sighed wearily and dragged himself out from beneath the covers, robotically dressing himself for the day, and barely glanced at Tooru when he came out of the bathroom humming, smelling of the cologne Hajime had given him for his birthday last year. Tooru chattered on over breakfast, that not-quite-real smile plastered on his face.

Hajime hated it.

“Oikawa. I—” But Hajime’s mouth went dry and he couldn’t make himself say it.

Tooru reached out to wrap his hand around Hajime’s, and Tooru’s plastic smile melted into something real. Hajime’s heart melted, too.

For a moment.

“Me, too.”

Every time Tooru looked at him that way, he remembered why he had done it all. Thought he would always choose to do it again.

Now he wasn’t so sure.

 

* * *

 

Hajime collected his stuff as Tooru remained wilted at the table, his face buried in his hands and every hiccupping sob tearing away another piece of Hajime.

He set his keys down on the table in front of his best friend.

“Tooru…”

What could he say? He could not make this better. Could only cause more pain. But he couldn’t leave him like this. Hajime dropped his bags by the door and walked back to kneel by Tooru. He placed a tentative hand on a sallow forearm. Tooru startled and pulled his arm away on instinct, only to weaken when he realized it was just Hajime.

To Hajime’s surprise, Tooru threw his arms around his shoulders.

“H-Hajime!” he sobbed into his shoulder. Hajime squeezed Tooru as tight as he dared, heart clenching, wondering if this would be the last time he would ever hold Tooru, ever touch him.

“D-D-Don’t do this, _please_ ,” he begged. Hajime didn’t think he knew the meaning of the word until this moment.

“This is…” Hajime hesitated, really wondering if what he was about to say was true. “This is best.” His throat constricted, making the words come out strained. “I—We talked about this.” His eyes began to water. “We’re… not okay, Toor—Oikawa. I can’t… I can’t keep—” Hajime’s voice broke and with it, his resolve. He frantically pushed Tooru off of him like he was a leech rather than the man he loved and bolted for the door, scrubbing his arm across his eyes.

He ignored Tooru’s calls as he scooped up his bags and fled.

 

* * *

 

"How long?"

Oikawa was curled up next to him, fingers twined with his.

"I could ask you the same question."

Hajime was drowsy and his head was beginning to pound, but Oikawa was warm and close and unmistakably real where their skin touched. The happiness he felt was so deep that he couldn’t care less about the minor discomforts.

"Please?"

Oikawa's warm brown eyes were so pure with wonder that Hajime's usual irritation was nowhere to be found.

“It was another party our first year,” Hajime admitted, gaze skirting away.

“We were ten,” Oikawa whispered, forehead pressing into Hajime’s bicep.

“What?”

Oikawa nuzzled his face further into his arm so that his words would come out mumbled.

“We were ten when I realized I liked you in a way I shouldn’t.”

Hajime felt like a hunk of stone had been dropped on his chest.

_‘In a way I shouldn’t.’_

Hajime closed his eyes and collected the pieces of himself that had just broken apart before responding.

“Oikawa, we don’t have to… We’re both drunk. Maybe we won’t even remember—”

Oikawa rocketed upwards. “Iwa-chan, what are you saying! I could never forget this.” Oikawa moved so he was looming over Hajime. Far too close. Hajime’s muscles seized as Oikawa’s warmth permeated him. He smelled like stale booze and cologne, but he still wanted to draw him closer, breathe him in, kiss him…

“Could you?”

Hajime swallowed with difficulty.

“Like you would let me forget it, Trashykawa.”

Oikawa’s smile was blinding.

Hajime had to crush him to his chest to keep himself from saying something incredibly sappy.

They fell asleep like that.

 

* * *

 

Hajime couldn’t live this lie anymore.

He hated himself for it.

 

* * *

 

Profanity ripped from his throat and Hajime screamed till his vocal cords were raw.

His fist ached where he had thrown it into the wall of the bar alley he was standing in, and he nursed it in his other hand as he gasped for breath. His eyes burned but no tears would fall, and soon he found himself screaming again. Venting all the emotion pressing against the walls of his skull, driving him to madness.

He was the one who was responsible for this.

_So why did it hurt so bad?_

Hajime knew the answer. The reason it hurt was the same reason he walked away.

Sometimes the person you want isn’t the one that’s best for you.

He and Tooru were strangling each other.

He and Tooru had never been without one another.

Hajime thought they needed some distance to figure themselves out.

He was starting to wonder if he was wrong.

Hajime thought he had to break away before it was too late to even be able to salvage a friendship.

Deep inside, Hajime was terrified it already was.

 

* * *

 

“You want to what?”

Hajime blinked a couple of times, but Oikawa was still there, finger boldly pointed at him, other hand poised on his hip.

Oikawa sighed dramatically.

“I _said_ , you’re taking me on a date tonight!”

Hajime continued to blankly stare at him for a couple of beats before turning back to the homework he had been working on for his introduction to biology class.

“Don’t just ignore me!” Oikawa screeched.

“Shut up Stupidkawa, I’m trying to study,” Hajime griped, hoping Oikawa wouldn’t notice his hot cheeks.

Unfortunately for him, this was Oikawa.

“You’re blushing, Iwa-chan,” he trilled.

Oikawa draped himself over Hajime’s shoulders and trailed his nose along the side of his face before stopping at his ear.

“C’mon,” he purred. It rapidly morphed into a much less appealing whine. “We’ve been together five months, living together for two of those, and you haven’t once taken me out on a date.”

Hajime willed himself to stay under control.

“Maybe if you get off of me and let me do my work I’ll have time to,” he grumbled, cursing the blush that _would not_ leave.

Oikawa instantly perked up and clapped his hands together.

“Wonderful! I’ll make all the preparations, so you just have to bring your wallet Iwa-chan!”

“Hey!” Hajime called over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of Oikawa dancing into his bedroom. “Why am I automatically paying?”

Oikawa popped his head around the doorway with a sly smile that made Hajime’s blood run even hotter.

“That’s easy. I said _you’re_ taking _me_ out, so obviously you’re paying!”

Oikawa barely pulled his head back in time to avoid being hit by Hajime’s eraser.

 

* * *

 

“Tooru.”

“Hm, Iwa-chan?”

The words held their usual false sweetness, but Tooru’s eyes never left the TV. Hajime watched colors flash over his face with its light for a few seconds. He looked ethereal. Beautiful. Not perfect, but perfect to him.

And so, so untouchable.

This couldn’t go on anymore.

Hajime turned his gaze back to the screen, but could not focus on what was playing. He took a couple of shallow breaths. He needed to say it as evenly as he could.

“We’re… not working together anymore, are we?”

Tooru’s eyes went wide.

“Iwa-chan?”

 _Oh_.

His voice sounded so small.

“You and I. What are we doing, Tooru?” The words Hajime had been holding back for months finally came forth, and with them, a certain degree of solace.

Hiding could be more exhausting than fighting.

 “What?” Tooru reached for the remote and turned the television off.

“We don’t talk about important things anymore. Anytime I ask if you’re okay you change the subject. We don’t cuddle after sex. I’m honestly surprised we even still _have_ sex. You hardly ever smile for real anymore. We’re stagnating and I hate it and I don’t know what to do!” A pleading note had crept into his words and he searched Tooru’s face, only to find him looking as helpless and miserable as he felt. Hajime’s mouth felt so dry. “Are we even friends?”

“Hajime, stop,” Tooru commanded. “Where is this coming from?”

Hajime ignored him, asking the real question that plagued him. “Are you happy, Tooru?”

Tooru was taken aback. “Of—Of course I am, Iwa-chan.”

Hajime’s heart sank like a stone at the lie.

He bit his bottom lip to keep it from trembling and closed his eyes until it hit bottom.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

 

* * *

 

It had been a month.

Tooru had been holed up in his apartment for a whole month. It felt empty. Even with mountains of neglected books and takeout containers built up on all available surfaces, the space felt vacant to him. Everything felt vacant to him.

The kitchen, which lacked Iwa-chan’s coffee grounds and produce.

The closet, where all his clothes were missing.

The bathroom, where his toothbrush and aftershave used to sit on the counter.

The bed that was too big and cold without another body.

Even the entranceway, where another pair of shoes never sat anymore.

All the cracks and crevices that Iwa-chan had once filled to keep Tooru intact had come undone. He felt fragile.

He hadn’t heard from Hajime once.

Tooru had moped and suffered for an entire month, checking his phone compulsively even when he knew nothing was there, his desire to see Iwa-chan again and explain things, _fix_ things, growing every hour.

When Hajime had left, Tooru had been too guilt-ridden and shocked to fight for them.

Now he’d had plenty of time to think, and he wasn’t going to accept this. He needed Iwa-chan to listen to what he had to say. Even if it made no difference he had to _try._

Tooru understood Hajime needed time, so he had given it to him, but he couldn’t just let him go like this.

He loved Hajime.

He _knew_ Hajime loved him. It was why he had walked away. Tooru had been too much of a coward to show his best friend what a mess he was and Iwa-chan had left him for it. Because Iwa-chan was a gentleman and would always martyr himself.

Oikawa got choked up just thinking about it.

He had given him a month. He wouldn’t let Iwa-chan do this to them anymore.

Hajime had tried to do what was best for them, and Tooru had given that a chance, but he was sure now that Iwa-chan was wrong.

They belonged together.

Hajime had promised to be his, ever after.

He wouldn’t let him take that back.

 

* * *

 

“Are you kidding me?”

“Nope! Don’t criticize it until you’ve tried it. Isn’t that what you told me about volleyball way back when, Iwa-chan? Come on. It will be fun!”

Oikawa, snatched up his hand and started dragging him towards the Daikanransha Ferris Wheel.

“ _Oikawa_ ,” he hissed, trying to pull his hand away.

“Live a little, Iwa-chan! No one’s looking. Did you bring your wallet?”

“You literally made me show it to you as we walked out the door.”

“I’m just checking! You can never be too sure.”

Hajime rolled his eyes and did his best to swallow his embarrassment.

Oikawa let go of his hand just as they reached the line.

“Isn’t this kind of a shitty date?” Hajime wondered aloud, speaking just loud enough so Oikawa could hear. “Take a half hour trip to stand in a line, and the go around in a really tall circle?”

Oikawa pouted.

“Ferris wheels are romantic, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa protested, not being nearly as considerate of their surroundings. “Everyone knows that. No wonder you’ve never dated before, honestly. Haven’t you read any romance novels?”

Hajime snorted. Of course Oikawa read shit like that.

It wasn’t half bad, though.

Hajime couldn’t afford to buy out the entire gondola, so there were four other people in there with them, but he had to admit that the view was pretty spectacular.

If nothing else, Oikawa’s excitement was worth it.

Maybe he would take Oikawa out again.

 _Maybe_.

 

* * *

 

Hajime slept on the couch that night. He could hear Tooru sniffling from their bedroom and steady streams leaked from his own eyes as he listened to him in the dark of their apartment.

Hajime thought he’d feel better now that everything was out in the open, but instead he just felt worse.

He felt raw.

It was like all his skin had been peeled off and he was feeling the sting of even the air on his exposed nerves. Everything hurt, and he could hear Tooru hurting, and he couldn’t do a damn thing.

Some small part of him had hoped that they’d be able to fix things once he brought up how he’d been feeling, but he knew now that wouldn’t be the case. They were breaking up—both of them knew it. Tooru wouldn’t be in their bedroom crying if he hadn’t already resigned himself to this. He’d be out here screaming, _‘So you just decided this by yourself? And you never said anything? You’re just going to break up with me without talking to me first?’_

The fact that he wasn’t just meant he was right. Hajime had fucked up, somehow. He’d been bleeding Tooru dry in the same way Hajime had dried up watching Tooru pretend every thing was fine.

Change would be good for them—eventually. They were too close. Too dependent. They couldn’t function without one another. And, right now, they couldn’t function with one another.

There was no winning.

_This was best._

No matter how many times he said it, it still rang hollow in his head.

 

* * *

 

Iwa-chan slammed the door closed in Tooru’s face.

Tooru saw that coming.

Iwa-chan, however, was clearly surprised by the two-by-four that Tooru had shoved between the door and its frame.

“Let me in, Hajime.” Tooru’s voice was even and steady, no hint of the lilt he was so fond of using.

Tooru noticed Iwa-chan’s fingers beginning to tremble where they were clutched around the door. He looked dumbly at the block of wood like it was some kind of magic and then drifted back to Tooru with a pain that Tooru was far too familiar with.

“What are you doing here?” he finally spoke, though it came out hoarse.

“I’m here for you, of course, Iwa-chan.” Tooru tried to give him a smile but it fell short. His Iwa-chan was in front of him. Within his reach. _But he couldn’t touch_. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

Now it wasn’t just Iwa-chan’s hand that was shaking.

“I don’t know how you got my address, but you should go, Oikawa.”

Tooru tried to not let the disappointment that Iwa-chan was still using that name get to him too much.

Hajime made to move the wood and Tooru took his moment of distraction to throw himself bodily into the door.

They both crashed backwards and landed in a pile on the floor.

“Fuck! What were you thinking, Trashykawa?”

Even though Iwa-chan was shouting at him, his heart stuttered at the insult.

He’d missed Hajime’s insults.

He’d missed Hajime’s warmth.

He’d just missed _Hajime_.

“Oikawa, get off me!”

It was only when Iwa-chan broke through his haze of feelings that he realized he was, in fact, on top of Iwa-chan.

Maybe he wasn’t as ready for this as he thought he was.

Tooru backed away and stood up with as much grace and dignity as he could muster, automatically offering Iwa-chan a hand up, too.

Iwa-chan took it, and for one electric moment, he got to feel the heat of Iwa-chan’s palm against his again. He didn’t want to let go.

“Tooru…”

Iwa-chan was looking at their clasped hands. He looked so sad.

Tooru tightened his grip.

“Don’t you walk away from me right now, Iwa-chan. At least listen to what I have to say. Please.”

Tooru bore his gaze into Iwa-chan, willing him to meet his eyes for even a moment.

When he did, Tooru clearly saw him for the first time.

He looked so worn down.

So broken.

And maybe, just maybe… a little hopeful.

 

* * *

 

“Iwa— _ah!_ ”

Oikawa’s voice pitched up and broke as Hajime rocked forward again.

Stuttering gasps left lips that were bitten raw and trimmed fingernails clawed at his arms and shoulder blades. Hajime could already feel his sweat stinging the shallow scrapes, but somehow it only served to heighten everything else he was experiencing.

Hajime moved them again, and Oikawa, hot and tight around him clenched down, trying to keep him right where he was.

As Hajime pulled back, Oikawa threw himself forward, clinging to Hajime, trusting him to keep them connected and upright.

Before Hajime could chastise him, Oikawa’s lips were on his again, clever tongue probing playfully, and Hajime was lost.

Hajime continued to roll into him, Oikawa now using gravity to his advantage. He wrapped his arms around Hajime tighter and whimpered into Hajime’s neck.

“ _Iwa-chan Iwa-chan Iwa-chan!_ ”

Hajime moved faster, blood boiling, heart thrumming, senses drowned in all that was his Tooru.

“ _Ah!_ ”

 _Fuck,_ Oikawa’s voice was so loud, _fuck…_

“ _Hajime!_ ”

Hajime’s hips stuttered in their rhythm, a cry to rival Tooru’s leaving his throat as a rush of gratification surged from him.

Tooru’s hands were everywhere, rubbing over his body and into his hair, kisses pressed to every centimeter of skin he could reach as he descended from the precipice. Hajime caught those wandering lips in his own and pour every ounce of his love into him.

“ _Tooru_ ,” he breathed when they parted.

Oikawa nudged his nose against Hajime’s and gave a satisfied sigh.

Hajime pulled from him and made short work of cleaning them both up a bit before settling himself against his setter again.

Oikawa looked half-asleep, but he still parted bleary eyes and warmly smiled at Hajime.

Hajime stroked his fingers through Tooru’s sweat-dampened hair and scooted a little closer.

“I love you.”

Oikawa’s eyes warmed that much more and he caught Hajime’s hand as it slid down his face so he could press the palm to his lips.

“So romantic, Iwa-chan,” he teased.

Hajime whapped him lightly on the head.

“That’s not how you’re supposed to respond, dumbass.”

Oikawa dropped the mischievous smile he had donned and straightened his features into something almost frighteningly serious.

“I love you, too, Hajime.”

Hajime closed his eyes and absorbed the words.

He was almost asleep when Oikawa spoke again.

“Iwa-chan?”

He blinked himself awake enough to groggily observe Oikawa’s face.

“We’ll be together forever, right?”

_What a stupid question._

“Of course we will.”

 

* * *

 

“I think we should break up.”

Hajime watched Tooru as his words slowly sank in. He could see the systematic breakdown Tooru went through—face blank until he understood, then contorted with hurt confusion, finally entering his body and transforming his proud posture into something shrunken. His eyes began to shine.

“Iwa-chan, can’t we talk about this?”

Hajime turned his face away. “About what, Tooru?” he inquired flatly. “About how you’ve been hiding things from me for months? About how every time I even tried to bring that up you brushed me off like I’m just anyone instead of your best friend and partner? About how I haven’t had the guts to call us out on this till now and when I asked if you were happy you _fucking lied_ to me about that, too?”

Tooru’s mouth hung open at Hajime’s outburst, eyes now brimming with tears, but his voice seemed caught in his throat.

Hajime scoffed, his chest feeling like it was slowly being crushed. “Don’t lie to me anymore, Tooru. You should know how I feel about that by now. I… I can’t watch you pretend to be happy anymore.” Hajime’s eyes dropped to the floor again. “ _I_ can't… I’m not happy either. And… I’ve been thinking a lot. I think we’ve been trying to keep this thing going just because we’ve always been together, but I don’t think it’s healthy. We should probably see,” his voice broke on the word, but he pressed on, “other people and have other experiences. We’re holding each other back, T—Oikawa. I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

Tooru’s watery eyes finally spilled over. He bit his lip to trap the broken sound that climbed up his throat, but the hitch of pain rang in Hajime’s ears. Hajime could only stand there and watch his best friend, his first and only love, his _Tooru_ fall apart and it _burned_. He was burning in his own special hell that he created and locked himself in. There were no escape routes. He would disintegrate into ashes watching Tooru break and he deserved it.

“This hurts worse,” Tooru choked. Fat tears ran down his face.

_He deserved it._

 

* * *

 

Tooru had finally released Iwa-chan’s hand so he could lead him to a chair. Tooru looked around and noticed how sparse Iwa-chan’s apartment was. A couple of chairs and a small table just outside of the kitchen, most of his things in boxes. Was he moving again?

Iwa-chan noticed Tooru’s scrutiny and answered him without prompting as he settled in a chair.

“I never really unpacked.”

That surprised Tooru.

“You didn’t?”

Iwa-chan sighed.

“No.”

“Our place feels too big without you,” Tooru offered.

“You mean your place,” Iwa-chan corrected.

Tooru flinched.

“Sorry. I—”

Iwa-chan stopped speaking and just looked at him for an extended period.

“I fucked up.”

Tooru felt the impulse to tease Iwa-chan, but quickly dismissed it. Hope flooded him. Maybe Iwa-chan felt the same way. Maybe they could set things right.

“We both did.”

Iwa-chan chuckled rather lifelessly.

“I was trying to protect you, you know. I thought cutting off contact for a while would make it easier to let go.” Iwa-chan hung his head. “I think I just made things worse.”

Tooru reflected on the weeks of agony he’d endured without Iwa-chan next to him. Reminders of Iwa-chan in every corner of their apartment. Iwa-chan always on his mind.

Tooru was not one to mince words.

“You did.”

Iwa-chan covered his face with one hand. Tooru knelt in front of him and took it away.

“But you can make them better, too.”

Iwa-chan’s eyes went round.

“Oikawa, I don’t—”

“I know we weren’t okay. I wasn’t okay. I was too afraid to say it, but… please,” he pleaded. “Hajime, you’ve always been there—”

“That’s exactly why—”

Tooru raised his voice over Hajime’s.

“Iwa-chan, could you not be rude for once and let me finish?”

Iwa-chan’s mouth snapped closed.

“You’ve always been beside me and I took it for granted that you always would be.” Tooru took a shaky breath. “I thought if I kept all my problems to myself I could keep you from worrying and just let you be happy. B-But when you said you couldn’t do it anymore I realized how wrong I was but you walked away before I knew what was happening and I, and I—” Tooru was breaking down. He couldn’t finish as he fought to keep the tears at bay.

Iwa-chan placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“C’mere.”

Hajime hoisted them both up to their feet and wrapped him in the warm hug he’d been desperate for. They swayed together until Tooru finally calmed.

The vibrations of Iwa-chan’s voice rumbled through Tooru, soothing him.

“I don’t know what we’re doing.”

“Do you need to? We’ve never known before, have we? It’s just like a match. We respond and improve as we go.”

“Not everything is about volleyball, dumbass.”

Tooru was truly shocked.

“But the metaphor fit so well!”

Hajime laughed, though it was strained.

“Tooru, I’m a disaster,” he croaked.

Tooru hummed. “Then you’re my disaster.” He pressed his nose into Iwa-chan’s hair. He had missed the scent of Iwa-chan’s hair gel. “Not that anyone else would take you—ow!” he yelped as Iwa-chan whacked him before he could finish his sentence.

He had never been more grateful for the light sting.

Tooru pulled back and tilted Iwa-chan’s chin up to meet his eyes. To see the solemnity in them.

“I know we have problems, Iwa-chan. I know I wasn’t honest and I pushed you away. But you never even gave me a chance to make things better. _Please_ give me a chance.” Tooru’s eyes were watering and he couldn’t stop it, but he refused to blink or look away, not until Iwa-chan had answered him.

Hajime’s hands fisted in his shirt. His brows pinched together in a pained sort of way that had Tooru’s heart failing.

He was going to say no.

“O-Okay.”

 “Huh?”

Tooru’s heart really was going to stop if it got yanked around anymore.

Hajime’s grip got tighter.

“I said okay _you_ —” The insult Tooru knew Hajime intended never came.

Tears flowed down his face.

That was the last straw for Tooru.

He let go of his control and let himself bawl with Iwa-chan.

 _His_ Iwa-chan.

“I’m _so sorry_ ,” he blubbered.

“We’re both idiots. I missed you, Shitty Oikawa. Just _tell me things_ , you moron. And don’t ignore me when I try to tell you things.”

“I will,” he promised. “I was… I was scared,” he whispered, sniffling. “Scared of losing everything. But I did anyway.” Another tear escaped his eyes and Iwa-chan quickly brushed it away.

“I know,” Hajime’s voice was just as soft. “I was scared, too. I didn’t think clearly because of it. But I’m here, Tooru.”

Tooru hiccupped again and a few more stray tears fell.

But Hajime was there to wipe them away again.

Tooru sniffed again.

 “Do you think we can fix this?”

Iwa-chan smiled in that way that made Tooru feel invincible.

“We’ve always managed to before.” His smile faded and he pulled Tooru close again. “I wouldn’t know what to do without you, you know.”

A lump formed in Tooru’s throat.

“Me either, Iwa-chan.”

It was going to be rocky, Tooru knew. They had to rebuild some things.

But that was okay. Everything needed repairs if kept long enough.

So this was natural.

They were talking about ever after, after all.

 

* * *

 

 _Now you could be my ever after, after all_  
_I could be your perfect disaster_  
_You could be my ever after_

**Author's Note:**

> Do let me know if you catch a mistake!
> 
> I track resmiranda13 and am tagging this fic under “fic EAAA”.
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


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